^HpoKS A^JD n :-&^ Cornell XDlnivetsiti^ Xibrari? mew ^ovk State College of Hariculture .^.fAyfS..2. ^^.l.ia\LQ. 6606 Bureau of Kjf^-Mc Z[-.:.-i''f and Farni3:.'s' R( COLLEGE OF ACiilCULTURS. Cornell University, Ithaca, N Y, Cornell University Library The original of tlnis book is in tine Cornell University Library. There are no known copyright restrictions in the United States on the use of the text. http://www.archive.org/details/cu31924097635621 coi "Up in a wild, where no one comes to look, There lives and sings a little lonely brook; LIveth and singeth in the dreary pines, Yet creepeth on to where the daylight shines." — Whitney, jfirst Steps in (5eograpb^ o>*io BROOKS AND BROOK BASINS BY ALEX EVERETT FRYE, LL.B. AxiTHOR OP " The Child and Natube," " Raised Maps of THE CpHTINENTS," ETC. 'Come forth into the light of things; , , Let Nature be your teacher" i'j ^ — WOKDSWOHIM BOSTON, U.S.A. : GINN & COMPANY, PUBLISHERS. 1898. COLL, " Boys, flying kites, haul in their white-winged birds; You can't do that way when you're flying words." — Will Cableton. Copyright, 1891, By ALEX EVERETT FBYE All Rights Rbsbuvbd. PREFACE. The purpose of this book is twofold : I. To INSPIRE CHILDEEN WITH LOVE OF NATURE. II. To SUGGEST TO TBAGHEES THE SUBJECT-MATTBK OF PBIMAEY GEOGRAPHY, WHICH, IN THE FORM OF OUT-DOOR NATURE STUDIES -, SHOULD PRECEDE THE USE OF A TEXT- BOOK. The study of mere forms of land and water, wMch usually completes the elementary course, is in reality only a very insignificant part of what should constitute the work. The aim should be to teach, by leading children to discover, the relations of these forms to the forces or working agencies, such as running water and currents of air, as they affect the development and distribution of plant and animal life. The reason for selecting Brooks and Brook Basins as a title is fully stated on the page next following. If this book possesses any merit, it is that of presenting the earth as a living, working, producing organism, in a form adapted to the minds of children. Alex E. Frtb. Hyde Pabe, I^bb., Jan. 1, 1391. TO TEACHERS. Thoughts from "THE CHILD AND NATURE." I. Peeception. EvEET brook basin is a miniature -world. The forms of land and water ; the forces at work wearing and building ; the conditions that regulate the distribution of life, — all are there, repeated in endless variety. The hillside leads to the greatest slopes of earth; the running water illustrates the principles of drainage of the largest rivers; the little delta shows how vast alluvial plains are formed ; each blade of grass and tiny earthworm obey the same forces that cover the earth with flora and fauna. But only after pupils have studied the relations of forms, forces and conditions in nature, can they imagine them on the grander scale on which our beautiful planet is con- structed ; for, in the development of mind, perception must precede imagination. Teachers are earnestly advised to take their pupils, when practicable, out by a brookside, to read and discuss the topics in this book, where nature can speak for itself, and awaken new thoughts. The brook basin is the unit-form of continental drainage. VI TO TEACHERS. II. Imagination. Particular attention is called to the importance of culti- vating the power to imagine the great natural features of the earth, by describing them to children as soon as their types have been studied in the school district. By such teaching, the grove becomes a great selva, the meadow broadens to a vast prairie, the little ravine rises to a canon of the Colorado ; in short, through the geographical forms about home, pupils should be led to study types of families of great natural features, till the whole world lies mirrored in the district. TSot knowledge of particular foreign forms, but power to imagine, should be the aim. This is one of the most im- portant steps in the teaching of primary geography. At the close of some chapters will be found stories illustrating this work. Children revel in analogies, because they lead to the beautiful region of fancy, where all childhood must wander till the discovery of natural cause and effect reveals true relations governed by physical laws, and admits to the higher realm of imagination. Taney is an iridescent bridge between memory and imagination, and unfortunate the child who is not permitted to cross at his leisure, and grow strong in imaging-power while crossing. It is because of the great importance of fancy, or phan- tasy, in the development of the imagination, that so many analogies, in simple metaphor and simile, have been sug- gested in these pages. III. Sensibility. Another element is worthy of special notice ; viz. the use of choice quotations as a means of leading children to a more reflective and refining study of nature. TO TEACHERS. VU Forms of land and water, whose beauty and lessons lie deeply hidden, are oft unveiled at the touch of the poet mind. Their influence sinks deepest when we are drawn nearest to nature in study ; and the forms that first inspired the poet's ideal become the language by which we inter- pret it. Science is an ocean of thought, with every wave a poem. Reach out to childhood, and sow in the forming charac- ters the purest thought-seeds of the noblest minds. To see truth is to love it, and every child naturally inclines to that which is pure and true. Store the memories with such beautiful poems as lie scattered over these pages like gems in a rough river-bed, and in years to come they will adorn lives made nobler by their presence. The philosophy of phenomena, difficult to grasp in the lower grades of school work, has been suggested in various figures of speech. Tor every fledgling idea in the text, there are a dozen pecking at the word-shells. Do not try to break the coverings from without, but wait for them to develop from within. Let the children taste the joy that springs from the dis- covery of truth. Effort alone is the soil of growth. CONTENTS. CHAPTBB PAGE I. The Raindrops set out on their Johkney . . .1 II. At Wokk in the Dark Soil 10 III. The Raindrops on the Water-parting 18 IV. In the Brook-Bed 27 V. Brook Basins and Systems . . ... .36 VI. How Soil is made and carried 44 Vn. Forms op Water .54 Vni. The Atmosphere in Motion 61 IX. An Evening under the Stars 71 X. Days, Nights and Seasons 82 XI. Plant Life in the Valley 95 XII. Animals that live by the Brookside 104 XIII. Home to OtD Ocean 114 BROOKS AND BEOOK BASINS. The author has taken occasion to revise Chapter One, and presents it herewith in the form in which it will hereafter appear. For the convenience of classes in which the former edition of the book is in use, Chapter One as it has previously appeared is given at the end of the book. BEOOKS AND BEOOK BASINS. CHAPTER I. THE RAINDROPS SET OUT ON THEIR JOURNEY. " tell me, pretty brooklet ! Whence do thy waters flow ? And whither art thou roaming, So smoothly and so slow ? " My birthplace was the mountain, My nurse the April showers ; My cradle was a fountain O'er-curtained by wild-flowers." —Anon. What a merry little brook ! Trip, trip, tinkle, tinkle, — here it comes ! See the fairies . dance in the flying spray, and race in the tiny water -breaks. Watch them chase the shining bubbles to catch the rainbow colors. Flakes of foam, like baby swans, swim round each little bend, and whirl in merry eddies ! The brook is like a happy child at play. It hides its dimpled cheek behind the green bank, and then comes tripping lightly forth again. Hear it ripple over the pebbles. 4 BROOKS AND BROOK BASINS. Now it glides into the meadow. Graceful wil- lows bend above it. Fleecy clouds drift far below. They seem to float in fairyland. The wild flowers nod and sway their pretty heads. They love the noisy prattle of the brook. The cheery robin pours out many a bubbling note in echo. Even the timid rabbit forgets its fear. One dainty foot is lifted and two soft white ears are turned to catch the story of the brooklet. Hark !' It is just beginning : — " We are a band of little raindrops. Our home is far away in the deep sea. "The rosy Dawn always comes to wake us. She hides the pretty stars and fans away the cold gray mist. Then in the sky she hangs the hues and tints of morning. "You should see the Sun rise at sea from his raft of roses ! His great eye glances over the water, and tips each tiny ripple with gold. "'Now for a race !' shout the passing Sunbeams. "Away we go ! Up, up, on our light vapor wings. Up, up, over the tall masts of the ship. Up, up, into the bright blue sky. When the sun- beams warm us we must fly away. " Far below, we can see the old white sea-gulls. They seem to chase their own shadows from wave to wave. " Ugh ! How cold it is up here ! Let us put on "Now it glides into the meadow." TME BAINDB0P8 ON THEIR JOURNEY. 6 our pretty white cloud-jackets. What a host we are ! The air is filled with water-dust. We make a cloud that casts a long wide shadow over the sea. " Hour after hour we float. The Sun sinks to rest on a pillow of fleecy clouds. Over him the Twilight weaves a beautiful coverlet with rainbow threads. Then her rosy fingers gently swing the gates of evening, and we are alone in the darkness. " Soon a gentle breeze trips over the sea, and pretty ripples spring up to greet it. A timid star peeps forth to see if day has gone. Another and another follow, till the bright eyes blink all over the sky. " ' The twilight hours, like birds, flew by As lightly and as free ; Ten thousand stars were in the sky, Ten thousand in the sea ; For every wave with dimpled cheek. That leaped into the air. Had caught a star in its embrace, And held it trembling there.' —Amelia. B. Welby. " 0, the beauty of the night ! " The cradled moon rocks in the silver caves of the clouds. Under its mellow light the drowsy waves put on their sparkling night-caps and go sailing off to bed. '''The Milky Way spans the sea-blue sky, like a bridge of silver foam amid clusters of golden islands. The stars glitter as if the sun had burst like a rocket above the sleeping earth. 6 BROOKS AND BROOK BASINS. " Now and then bright meteors trail far over- head. Starry birds-of -passage ! They flash into sight for an instant, and then are gone, — whither? " Here and there deep shadows flit like dark- winged birds across the sea. 0, the beauty of the night ! "What a merry train they are, — the twink- ling stars ! " Out of the east comes beautiful Vega, bright- est of all the host. Near her floats the graceful Swan among the starry drops that glisten in the Milky Way. "Now the night wind hums a sweet lullaby, telling how — " ' Wynken, Blynken, and Nod one night, Sailed off in a wooden shoe ; Sailed on a river of misty light, Into a sea of dew. " Where are you going and what do you wish ? " The old Moon asked the three. " We have come to hunt for the herring-fish That live in this beautiful sea ; Nets of silver and gold have we," Said Wynken, Blynken And Nod. " ' The old Moon laughed and sung a song. As they rocked in the wooden shoe ; And the wind that sped them all night long Euffled the waves of dew. THE EAINDBOPS ON TnEIR JOURNEY. 7 The little stars were the herring-fish That lived in that beautiful sea, " Now cast your nets wherever you wish, But never afeard are we ! " So cried the stars to the fishermen three, Wynken, Blynken And Nod. "'AH night long their nets they threw For the fish in the twinkling foam ; Then down from the sky came the wooden shoe. Bringing the fishermen home. 'Twas all so pretty a sail, it seemed As if it could not be ; And some folks thought 'twas a dream they dreamed, Of sailing that beautiful sea ; But I shall name you the fishermen three, Wynken, Blynken And Nod. "'Wynken and Blynken are two little eyes. And Nod is a little head. And the wooden shoe that sailed the skies, Is a wee one's trundle-bed ; So shut your eyes while mother sings Of wonderful sights that be. And you shall see the beautiful things, As you rock on the misty sea, Where the old shoe rocked the fishermen three, Wynken, Blynken And Nod.' — EuQEME Field. 8 BROOKS AND BEOOK BASINS. "The sweet song dies away. Kind Night showers her drowsy drops over our weary band. All day we have been floating far above the sea. Now soft breezes rock us in their cradle and we fall asleep. "We dream that we are captives of the golden sunbeams. They bear us away in tiny boats that move with white wings. " Ugh ! a cold wind whistles by. The sunbeams flee away. We fall to earth, and are set at work in cold dark cells. " One day we bubble through a clear spring, and glide along a narrow path. We ripple over sands of gold, and whisper to the flowers that nod upon the banks. At last we are free ! " Then we awake. Where are we? — Still above the dark-blue sea. Will the dream prove true ? Wait and see. "Day breaks, and land is in sight. "But the fields are brown and bare. Cold Winter has just fled. We can still see his white footprints in the forest. " ' Here is work for all ! ' rustles the silver water-dust, as it dances with the merry sunbeams. 'The gardens will soon be filled with seeds. We must help them spring up and grow. We will cover the fields with violets, and the meadows with golden grain. " 'We will hang rosy apples in the orchards, and THE BAINDBOPS ON THEIR JOURNEY. 9 clusters of purple grapes in the vineyards. All nature will wake from its long quiet sleep, and how happy everybody will be ! ' " Now cold Winter turns and sends his icy breath whistling over the hilltops. How we shiver and huddle together. The warm sunbeams flee away in fright. We fold our little vapor- wings. Once more we are drops of water, and down we patter on the hillsides. " How glad the old pines are to see us ! " The early birds sing their sweetest songs. You should hear them chirp and twitter among the branches. " Merrily the little leopard frogs trill, ' Pr-r-r, pr-r-r, spring is here, pr-r-r, pr-r-r ! ' " And the old frogs croak their deep bass, ' Tb-b-b, tb-b-b, winter is gone, tb-b-b, tb-b-b.' " Pretty pink earthworms crawl from their cells to find out what all this fuss is about. Even the old brindle cow stands out in the rain, and blinks and blinks. Now the springs will all send out pure sweet water again. "What a stir is made, just because the cold north wind scares the warm sunbeams away and sends an April shower ! " 10 BHOOKS AND BROOK BASINS. CHAPTER II. AT WORK IN THE DARK SOIL. " But what can little raindrops do ? " piped a robin redbreast next morning, as he dipped his bill in the clear cool water. "Do?" bubbled the brook; "you should see us at work ! " "Chip, chip, che-chip ! " chattered a saucy chip- monk who was listening to the story. " Chuck, chuck, che-chuck ! " barked an old gray squirrel, and he snapped his teeth and shook his bushy tail at the thought of a raindrop doing any work. All at once crack went the dead branch on which they sat, and splash they went into the water. How they did sputter and chatter as they scram- bled ashore, and ran to hide in the old stone wall. A merry ripple went up and down the brook. The little wild-flower would have smiled too, but it was afraid that the gray squirrel would come and snip o£E its head. So it only nodded its pretty blossom, as the brooklet went on with its story. " Yes ; we all went merrily to work, for there are no lazy raindrops. The ground was full of AT WORK IN TSE BARK SOIL. 11 cracks and holes, where our cousin Jack had been before us. " What ! you do not know Jack Frost ? 0, he is a merry fellow, bright and full of life. Some- times he is mischievous, too. He likes to nip the flowers and fruits, — yes, and the toes and ears of little girls and boys. "But he is very useful, for all that. Every year he comes to loosen the soil with his little icy ploughs, so that the raindrops can reach the roots and seeds in early springtime. " Down, down, we ran into the thirsty ground, — down into rich loam that held fast nearly half our band, — down through sandy soil which could not stop our flowing, — down to a bed of clay whose doors were closed against us. " How dark it was in those tiny cells. Not one ray of light to show us the way ; not a sunbeam to cheer us on. "We met cold earthworms crawling along in their slender caves. Brave little creatures they are, toiling there in the dark. Day after day they gnaw the leaves, and change them into loam. Then back to the surface they crawl, and bring their rich load. " ' The tiny mounds by earthworms east, — The richest gift in Nature's hand, — Contain the life of ages past, The hope of every flowering land. 12 BBOOKS AND BROOK BASINS. " ' Far less of v/ealth should we behold, Far less of happiness secure, If every second mound were gold, And every first a diamond pure.' —A. B. p. "We passed by families of queer little ants, building their pretty hills. How busy they were, carrying the soil to light and air. All over the hillside, you can now see hundreds of their rich mounds, waiting for the raindrops to come and spread them over the surface. "We took the loam wherever we went, and placed it near the roots and seeds. We even car- ried it into the plants and trees. The sun sent down its warm rays, and soon all nature was awake once more. "We ran into little grass culms, where tender blades had hidden from cold winter storms. Soon the fields were green again. We stole up into each sleeping bud, and rosy leaflets unfolded in the warm sunshine. We waked up every seed in the garden, and their pretty heads came peeping through the dark soil. The air was filled with sweet songs of birds, and spring had come. " ' Whether we look, or whether we listen, We hear life murmur, we see it glisten ; Every clod feels a stir of might, An instinct within it that reaches and towers. And groping blindly above it for light, Climbs to a soul in grass and flowers ; AT WORK IN TEE DARK SOIL. 13 The cowslip startles in meadows green, The buttercup catches the sun in its chalice, And there's never a leaf nor a blade too mean To be some happy creature's palace.' — Lowell. "Soon the snowy blossoms on the apple-trees hung like clouds. The violets in the meadow looked like the clear blue sky above. Still we toiled on in the dark ground. " Day after day, merry showers pattered down. One morning, as the silver drops came singing from the clouds, we heard them shout, ' Catch us, if you can ! ' "Away they scampered down the hill, for the soil had water enough. " ' Wait for me ! ' cried one little fellow, and where do you think it was ? It had fallen straight into the tiniest buttercup on the whole hillside, and could not get out. It looked just like a dia- mond set in a little golden crown, only it was much prettier. Perhaps a passing^sunbeam helped it out next day, but no one waited to see. "Weeks passed. The apple-blossoms sifted down like snow. Golden grain waved in the meadow. Rich yellow corn flung out its silken tassels along our brookside. " ' All the long August afternoon, The little drowsy stream Whispers a melancholy tune, As if it dreamed of June And whispered in its dream.' — W. D. HowBLM. 14 BROOKS AND BROOK BASINS. "At length the branches hung low with ripe fruit. Yellow sheaves dotted the stubbly meadow. Long ears of corn stood ripening in the sun. Out in the grain fields we heard happy voices sing- ing— " ' Heap high the farmer's wintry hoard ! Heap high the golden grain ! No richer gift has Autumn poured From out her lavish horn ! " ' Through vales of grass, and meads of flowers, Our ploughs their furrows made, While on the hills the sun and showers Of changeful April played. " ' We dropped the seed o'er hill and plain, Beneath the sun of May, And frightened from the sprouting grain The robber crows away. " ' All through the long bright days of June, Its leaves grew green and fair, And waved in hot midsummer's noon. Its soft and yellow hair. "'And now with Autumn's. moonlit eves. Its harvest time has come, We pluck away the frosted sheaves. And bear the harvest home.' — Whittibr. " At length our long, cold journey was ended, and we could come out of the dark soil, as other little raindrops had every day, and could play with the sunbeams once more. Soon we should be home again ! How happy we were ! AT WORK IN THE DABK SOIL. 15 " Have you ever seen a spring ? You should liave been there to see us burst from ground. I will tell you what it was like. " Go all the way up the hillside where we have been flowing. Gather up every merry ripple, every silver bubble, every sparkling sunbeam. " Take even the tiny whirlpools with their flakes .of foam, — the gliding sheets and flying spray. Over all sprinkle a dozen of the brightest rain- bows you have ever seen. " Now carry them to yonder green spot on the hillside, where the pretty flowers love to cluster round; and there beneath the branches of the graceful willow, bury them deep in the dark, cold ground. " Then, when the sweet- voiced birds are awake, and the air is heavy with perfume, — thfere, where the sunbeams seem to beckon, let them all burst forth like a Jack-in-a-box, and run sparkling, bubbling, prattling, dancing, dashing down the hillside, and you will see our spring. Now — " ' I'm hastening from the distant hills, With swift and noisy flowing ; Nursed by a thousand tiny rills, I'm ever onward going. " ' The willows cannot stay my course, With all their pliant wooing ; I sing and sing till I am hoarse, My prattling way pursuing. 16 BBOOKS AND BROOK BASINS. " ' I kiss the pebbles as I pass, And hear them say they love me, I make obeisance to the grass That kindly bends above me. " ' So onward through the meads and dells I has'ten, never knowing The secret motive that impels. Or whither I am going.' " — Edosnb Field. As the voice of the brooklet seemed to die away in soft ripples along the banks, two nimble squir- rels sprang from the old stone wall, and ran down to the edge of the water. Can you guess what they whispered to the little brook ? This was the kind and gentle answer : " yes, he sure to come ! We know that you meant no harm. But remember that — " ' Small service is true service while it lasts ; Of meanest friends, bright creatures, scorn not one ; The daisy, by the shadow that it casts. Protects the lingering dewdrop from the sun.' — WOKDSWOBTH. " We like to see you sporting among the branches, and we have helped to fill a great oak with sweet acorns for you to store away for the long, cold winter. "Come early to-morrow, and you shall hear about the beautiful valley in which you live. " Good by ! " AT WORK IN THE BARK SOIL. 17 " Good by ! " Surely enough, when the brooklet began its story next morning, there sat Chip and Dick on the bank, looking just as happy as good little squirrels ought to look. 18 BROOKS AND BROOK BASINS. CHAPTER TTI. ON" THE WATEK-PARTING. "Behold the rocky wall That down its sloping sides Pours the swift raindrops, blending, as they fall. In rushing river-tides ! " Yon stream, whose sources run, Turned by a pebble's edge. Is Athabasca, rolling towards the sun Through the cleft mountain ledge. " The slender rill had strayed, But for the slanting stone, To evening's ocean, with the tangled braid Of foam-flecked Oregon." — HOLHES. " Here you are, little scjuirrels, bright and early," babbled the brook, next morning. " But where is our pretty friend Bunny ? " Ah, there he comes, hopping along. And here comes Robin Redbreast, too." The little wild-flower nodded its round head, and the squirrels shook their bushy tails. That is the way they said good morning to Bunny and Redbreast. Bunny's Home, ON THE WATEM-PAB.TING. 19 " Did all the raindrops sink into the dark soil ? " asked Chip, as soon as they were ready for the story. " no ! " rippled the brook. " Shall I tell you what became of the others, and what they saw on thehUlside?" " Please do ! " chimed the whole party, and so the brooklet began. " We all felt very sad when we parted from our brother raindrops on the hilltop. But some were on one side of a low ridge, and some on the other. We could not climb over, for raindrops can only run down- hill. " ' Good by ! ' cried our tiny brothers. " ' Good by ! ' we answered sadly, and we hfCve not seen them since. Perhaps we shall all meet again when we go back to the sea, — but who can tell ? " Just then, two silver bubbles came wriggling up from the bed of the brook. They looked like tear- drops, and we thought the pretty pebbles must be weeping at the sad story. But the brooklet chat- tered on. " The same day that we fell on the hill, a teacher came with a class of happy children to visit our valley home. She did not know that raindrops could hear, and we did not tell her. " They all climbed to the top of the ridge, just where we had fallen. Then they could look into the valley on either side. 20 BBOOKS AND BROOK BASINS. " ' When the rain falls on the very top of the ridge, which way will the drops floV ? ' asked the teacher. " Every little raindrop on the hillside knew the answer ; but we all kept still. " Many pupUs said that the water would flow into our valley, but others thought that it would run down the slope on the other side of the ridge. One bright little girl said that it might flow either way. " Then the teacher asked them to find other spots where the raindrops might turn either way. She gave them sharp sticks to set up all along the very top of the ridge. " ' Here's a place ! ' ' Here's another ! ' rang their merry voices. What sport they had ! One little boy hit his bare toe against a stump, and away he rolled down the steep hillside. It didn't hurt him, and he ran back laughing. " Soon there was a long row of tiny stakes all around the valley, — up by the spring, and on both sides. Then the teacher told her little folks that the very top of the ridge, on which the poles stood, was called a ' water-parting.' We all thought it a good name, for that was just where we parted from our raindrop brothers last spring. " The little children found only one water-parting around our valley, but my tiny rills know that there are two. Many of the drops that soak into ON THE WATER-PARTING. 21 the soil settle till they reach a layer of clay or rock on which they can flow. The highest part of this clay-bed or ledge forms a parting or ' divide ' for the underground streams, just as the top of our ridge does for the surface-water. "But we must not lose sight of the teacher yet. Her next question was a queer one : ' To which valley does the water-parting belong ? ' "Do you think that you can tell, pretty rabbit?" " I think that it belongs to both," was Bunny's answer. " It isn't in either," piped Redbreast. " It comes just between the valleys," said Chip. "I don't know," sighed the little wild-flower, " for I have never moved from this spot." The old gray squirrel gave a knowing wink, and said, " That water-parting is on the edge of both valleys. The slopes meet there." Which was right ? The silver brook only bubbled softly, as it went on with its story. " That ridge is the boundary of our valley home. All the raindrops that fall on this side belong in our family. All that fall on the other side run away to other streams. But here comes a shower ! If Bunny and Dick will go up to the ridge, they can see just what happens." Away they jumped, and reached the top as the drops began to fall. 22 BROOKS AND BROOK BASINS. "Come under this old stump, Bunny," said Dick, " and the rain wUl not wet your soft fur." How pretty they looked, sitting there together ! Two pairs of bright eyes peeped out at the raia. Two pairs of sharp ears listened to the patter on the old stump. " look, Bunny ! we are on the water-parting. Here is just where the raindrops are parting. Many are also sinking into the ground. Here go some down this slope, and there go the others into our valley. See! they are formjjig two little rills." " It has stopped raining now, Dick. Let us fol- low these tiny streams both ways. I will go to the right, and you to the left. Then we will re- turn to the brookside, and tell what we have seen." ******* "Why, here comes the rabbit all alone ! " sighed the little wild-flower. "What has happened to Dick?" "Ha! ha!" laughed Bunny. "I played a joke on him. He will come back by and by. Shall T tell you what I saw?" " yes, tell us your story. We have been wait ing to hear it." So Bunny told how they went to the top of thf hill, and hid in the dry stump. How they watched the drops fall on the ridge. How he had agreed ON THE WATER-PABTING. 23 to follow the rill on one side, while Dick went down the other. " It was such a joke ! Ha ! ha ! Poor Dick, he did not think ! His rill will lead him away over into the other valley." Then Bunny rolled in the sand, and laughed till tears ran down his soft cheeks. "But what did you see, Bunny ? " asked Chip. "0 yes, I forgot to tell my story. The tiny streams moved slowly at first, till they came to the place where the boy rolled down the hill. Then they pitched headlong over and ran to the bottom as fast as I could jump. " How pretty they looked as they went leaping over the stones. Many little rills flowed together, but there were low water-partings between the others that kept them from joining. They had a merry time. I heard one little fellow singing — " ' One morn I ran away, A madcap, noisy rill ; And many a prank that day, I played adown tlie hill.' —Anon. " Then the tiny streams wound slowly across the meadow, and where do you think they went ? " " Here we are ! " rang a merry chorus. Surely enough, all the little rills had run into our brook, and had just reached the place where Bunny was telling his story. 24 BROOKS AND BROOK BASINS. "Here comes Dick!" cried sharp-eyed Chip, as down the hillside tripped the graceful sqiurrel, hopping over the tufts and hollows. His first words were, " That was a good joke, Bunny, but it turned out well. I found a big nut- tree over the ridge. As soon as the frost comes to open the burrs, I shall hide the nuts away under the old stump. I wish you could eat some. Bunny. Little Chip may have as many as he wants this winter." " You are always kind to me," whispered Chip, as he rubbed his pretty cheek against Dick's soft fur. "But what else did you see over the ridge?" rustled the wild-flower. " I followed the rills on the other side tUl they all flowed into another brook just like ours. Now what do you think of this ? That little stream was telling the selfsame story that we heard yesterday. I wonder if all brooks work as hard as ours?" queried Dick. Robin Redbreast was very quiet. He had been thinking. All at once he dipped his head, as robins often do, gave a few quick hops, flapped his wings, and chirped so loud that he scared poor Bunny half out of his wits. " What is the matter?" asked Dick, as he stuck his tail straight out, ready to run. "When I flew northward last spring," piped ON THE WATEB-PABTING. 25 Redbreast, "I was caught by a strong wind that blew me far out of my course. I saw a great stream, wider than this whole meadow. I cannot tell how long it was, for it reached farther than I could see. "How the wind blew! I flew over high hills, yet I could always see the river in the valley. But as I went higher and higher up the long slope, the stream became ever smaller and smaller. "At length I saw a high mountain whose top was above the clouds. On its side, the stream looked very narrow. Over the great highland I flew, and saw only a little brook starting near its highest point. " Then, on the other side, I saw another stream, —yes, many little rills and brooklets. Down they ran, and flowed together in the lowlands. They made a river that was wide and deep. It was just like our brook, only many times larger. Away, as far as I could see, the dark-blue river wound across the plain. "' So- blue yon winding river flows, It seems an outlet from tlie sky ; Where, waiting till the west wind blows, The freighted clouds at anchor lie.' — LONGPELLOW. "At length the storm passed by. Then I flew north to my old apple-tree, just as fast as my wings could carry me. 26 BROOKS AND BROOK BASINS. " Now I see it all ! The top of that high moun- tain is a water-parting like our low ridge. It parts the raindrops for those great rivers, as the ridge does for our brooks." " You are right, little bird," rippled the brook. " But all water-partings are not high, or even like ours on the hill. Some are so low that you can scarcely see them. Yet they part great rivers. " A parting may be on mountains, hills, or even low plains. Often it is on all three, for it must go around a valley. It need only be high enough to part the raindrops." The pretty wild-flower nodded to Eedbreast, and whispered, " What a wonderful bird you are ! " All the others thought so, too. IN THE BROOK-BED. 27 CHAPTER IV. IK THE BROOK-BED. " Good morning, Dick." " Good morning, Bunny ; where are you going?" "Down to the brookside. We shall find Chip and Redbreast there before ns, this morning. I saw them pass by some time ago. There they are now. And hark ! that is the brooklet singing. Let us sit here on this pretty knoll and listen." " ' I chatter over stony ways, In little sharps and trebles, I bubble into eddying bays, I babble on the pebbles. " ' I wind about and in and out. With here a blossom sailing, And here and there a lusty trout, And here and there a grayling. " ' And here and there a foamy flake Upon me as I travel. With many a silvery water-break Among my golden gravel. "'I draw them all along and flow To join the brimming river. For men may come and men may go, But I go on forever.' " — Tenntsoh 28 BROOKS AND BROOK BASINS. " Bravo, little brook ! " shouted the rabbit. " What a pretty song ! " " Here are Bunny and Dick," called out the lively chipmonk. "Now you can begin your story." "What shall it be to-day, Chip?" asked the brooklet. " 0, tell us, please, how the raindrops found their way into the brook-bed," said the happy little creature; and so the silver drops in the passing stream began their story. " We told you how we came out in the bubbling spring, but we did not tell you that there are sev- eral of these sparkling fountains in our valley. All around the foot of the hUl, and on its sides, you will find them creeping forth to form the tiny rills and brooklets. "When we came out of the dark ground, we found many slopes on the hillside. Some were so steep that we could roll straight down into little pools. Others were covered with sharp rocks that cut us into foamy sheets. In one place, we ran so fast that a barefoot boy who came to fish clapped his hands and shouted, ' 0, see the pretty rapids ! ' " Now we would only glide over the yellow sand, without a ripple on the smooth surface. Then the banks would almost meet, and how we would rush through ! Again they would widen, and spread us out into round ponds. "So you see, my little friends, that a brook must IN THE BROOK-BED. 29 follow its slope. If it rushes, if it glides, if it courses Straight away, or winds about, it is because it obeys the slope of its bed." "But why must you always run down hill?" asked Dick. "That we cannot tell. The snow-white blos- soms fall to earth. Later, the apples follow. Our pretty robin beats the air with his wings, and floats upwards into the sky. But let him furl those tiny sails, and he falls with the apple. " We only know that something draws us down the slope. We feel it at work, and call it 'grav- ity.' Sometime we may know what it is. " Moved by the same secret force, many streams flow down all sides of our valley. They reach the place where the side-slopes meet, and then where do you think they go ? " " They cannot flow back again," said the wild- flower, meekly. " They must make ponds." "The slopes are so wide that the place where they meet is a long hollow," chirped the robin. " If they form a pond, it must be very long." " The slopes meet in the bottom of our valley, too," added Dick, looking about. " But I cannot see any long pond here," The brooklet seemed to chuckle at the answer, and dimpled waves ran from shore to shore. " 0, 1 see ! " rustled the wild-flower. "It is in the bed of our own brook ! " 30 BROOKS AND BROOK BASINS. " So it is ! " chimed the merry voices ; and they all laughed heartily to think how long they had tried to find the place where the slopes met. "We ought to have seen that, Bunny," said Dick. " Only yesterday we followed the rills down the slopes, and saw them run into the brook. Yes, the side-slopes of our valley meet in the bed of the stream." "And I see why the brook always flows one way," cried Chip. "It is because the bed slopes from the source towards the mouth." " Now I know why all streams are not alike," piped Redbreast. " Small ones flow in little valleys, and have only short slopes to drain." " But the stream in a large valley would be small if only a few showers fell on its slopes," added the wild-flower. "Deep beds must lie along the lower edges of steep slopes," said Dick ; " and I should think that gradual slopes, like these in the meadow, would form wide streams." " But why do some brooks wind about ? " asked the robin. " They mvist follow the low line along which the slopes meet," was Bunny's answer. " If the slopes come together in a straight line, the stream will be straight. In the gently sloping meadow, the bed winds more than it does on the steep hillside. Slow brooks must wander about more than swift ones," IN THE BROOK-BED. 31 "You are right, Bunny," bubbled the stream. " That is nearly always true of large rivers as well as tiny rUls. A swift stream can wear a straight bed for itself, by cutting away the lower edges of the side-slopes. But a slow one is easily turned aside. " Sometimes a bed widens into a valley with in- ward slopes on all sides. Then the stream spreads oiifc and forms a pond or lake. Nearly all ponds are wide places in brooks ; and nearly all lakes are still wider places in rivers. "During a rainy season, ponds and lakes store up water and prevent it from making torrents in brooks and rivers. Low bogs and marshy places also hold back a part of the rainfall, and feed the streams during dry seasons. "Marshes are often half pond and half meadow- They are like shallow ponds filled with growing mosses, ferns, and coarse grasses ; but they help to regulate the supply of water, and to prevent streams from overflowing their banks. " Now if you will look at the branches or tribu- taries flowing into the main brook, you will find that there are three kinds. There is the little stream that runs down the steep hillside, and winds a long way across the meadow. Another flows nearly its whole length on the bluffs or low plateau, and then leaps down into a small pool near our rapids. A third rises on the bluffs, and reaches 32 BBOOKS AND SHOOK BASINS. the lowland by a series of cascades and rapids, like a stairway. "If we were to travel the wide world over, we should see countless streams, large and small, wide and narrow, deep and shallow, rapid and slow. But each would have a slope like one of these three tributaries. We will therefore call our three slopes, down which the little brooks flow, ' types ' of the slopes that send all streams to the sea. " Put on your thinking-caps now, my wise little friends, and tell me the difference between a water- parting and a brook-bed." " The parting is a ridge, and the bed a valley," came the first answer from the nodding wUd- flower. "You are a bright-eyed posy," said Bunny. " When Dick and I were under the old stump, we saw the ridge part the raindrops, and we know that the tiny rills brought many of them to our brook-bed in the valley." " The water-parting goes around the valley, but the brook-beds cut across," chattered the lively chipmonk. " I think that the bed is just like the parting," began Dick. " Where the edges of the slopes join on the ridge, they form a water-parting. Where they meet in the valley, they make a brook-bed." " If they are alike, Dick," piped Redbreast, " why doesn't the brook-bed scatter the rain- drops ? " IN THE BROOK-BED. 33 "I see ! " called out Chip ; and surely enough the little fellow did. " The parting is where the upper edges of the slopes come together, while the lower edges meet in the deepest part of the brook-bed, — in the channel." " "Well done, Chip ! " cried Dick. " We thought that out very well together, didn't we ? The bed is the bottom of the valley, and the parting is the top or rim." " You have all done well," rippled the happy brook. "Now I will tell you another name for our valley. It is called a ' brook basin.' All the land that sends its raindrops to the streams in our valley belongs to our basin. " Shall I tell you of a great river-bed that I once saw as I went sailing over the earth in the white- winged clouds ? " Far away beyond the hill over which the sun rose this morning, there is a great forest. Robin would have to fly straight away for many long days and nights to reach it. Indeed, I fear our little bird would die on the way, for he would have to try to cross the wide ocean. His strong wings would need to rest many times, and he would fall into the sea. " One time we floated over there in a great cloud. We saw lakes so wide that their shores were below the horizon on every side. There were mountains, too, so high that their white tops 34 BROOKS AND BROOK BASINS. seemed to touch the sky. They looked just like the great banks of rain-clouds that often roll up before a storm. " There were also countless streams, — some rising in the mountains, others flowing from the lakes. At length we saw the place where they all ran together and formed a river that was deep and wide. " Many of the raindrops fell from the clouds, and started on a long journey with this mighty stream. " You should see the water rushing over the steep places in the rocky bed. How it roars and foams ! "^ar below, it glides along towards another high bank. Down it plunges with a crash like thunder. Here and there other streams flow in, till it looks like a long, wide lake, reaching from sky to sky, across a great plain. "Day after day it glides and rushes along its bed. Then it flows through a land where no more rain falls, and no other streams come to join it. For miles and miles it has not a single tributary. " On every side the hot sun beats down. The air is stifling. The banks are parched and dry. Can anything live in such a place ? We shall see by and by. "Down, down we go. Weeks pass. Still the same hot sun, the stifling air, the shining stream, IN THE BROOK-BUD. 35 the thirsty soil. Where is the water going ? What is it doing? " At length we see rounded house-tops. We flow under wide bridges. We pass large cities. Then the river divides and flows slowly among hundreds of low islands, till it pours its muddy water into a great salt sea. " This is the wonderful river Nile that flows through a vast desert. Sometime I will tell you what the great stream does as it follows its bed over the slopes of that dry country. Now, my little friends, I must bid you good night, for already — " ' Day hatli put on his jacket, and around His burning bosom buttoned it with stars.' " — Holmes. 36 BROOKS AND BROOK BASINS. CHAPTER V. BROOK BASINS AND SYSTEMS. " * Thou, ever joyous rivulet, Dost dimple, leap, and prattle yet ; And sporting with the sands that pave The windings of thy silver wave. And dancing to thy own wild chime. Thou laughest at the lapse of time.' " — Bryant. Thus sang the cheerful robin, while he flew down to join his friends by the brookside, next morning, as Bunny asked the silvery drops to tell how they found their way out of the cold ground. " 0, that was easy enough. We just ran along till we found a place where the clay-bed came to the surface on the hillside." " But how did you know which way to flow?" chirped the robin. " At first we did not know. But when many raindrops met on the bed of clay, we soon foimd a way. Isn't it strange that in this wide world of ours, there is no level land where the raindrops fall ? " " Ho, ho, Master Brooklet ! " cried Dick. BROOK BASINS AND SYSTEMS. 37 " Where are your eyes ? Our own meadow is just as level as the pond." But the watchful wild-flower knew better than that. Had it not seen the dimpled waves go danc- ing by all summer ? " Can you tell me why our brook doesn't flow the other way, Dick ? " it whispered softly. " Chip, chip ! hurrah for posy ! " sang a merry voice from under the leaves. " You are right, little flower," bubbled the stream. " I could not move if the meadow were level. In the open air I must flow down the slopes, except when the sunbeams spread my vapor- wings. Where water runs, the land must change its level." " But wait," replied Dick. " Here is a pond in which the water only stands, and does not flow away." Then he blinked his bright eye as if to say, " How do you explain that ? " The wild-flower only nodded and asked, " Why does it not spread out evenly over the whole meadow?" " Because the banks hold, — oh, I see ! " said the honest squirrel. " The land must slope towards the poiid. Our meadow looks level, but it must slope .a little. If the meadow were as high in one place as in another, the water could not drain away, could it ? " Then there would be no brooks, no ponds, — 38 BROOKS AND BROOK BASINS. only muddy fields. The whole surface would be covered with water. All the plants would die. There would be no hills, no valleys, no streams. Poor Bunny could not dig in the ground, and I don't know what the squirrels would find to eat. Why ! the salt ocean would flow over the land, and then — but we need not think of that, for the fields do slope." " Yes," added the brook, " even the beds of rock and clay beneath the surface slope. That is how the raindrops got out of the dark soil. We just ran along on the clay-bed, and' leaped into the warm air. " When there has been no rain for weeks, the water that is in the soil keeps flowing out. The ponds and marshes also give up their store of water, and the streams flow on during the dry season. " Which of you can tell me how much land is drained by our brook?" " All the land in the valley sends its water to the brook-bed," piped the robin. " You must drain all the slopes on this side of the highland," said Chip. "All the land that slopes downward to the brook-bed must send its water into the brook," added Dick. " The whole basin within the water-parting must drain into our brook-bed," was Bunny's answer. "Is every basin bounded by a water-parting ? " asked the wild-flower. BROOK BASINS AND SYSTSMS. 39 "Yes, every basin on earth," rippled the stream. " Beyond the hill, there is another valley in which Dick saw a brooklet flowing. The slopes that meet to form its bed stretch upwards on both sides till they reach the rims of other basins. "The upper edges of these slopes are water- partings, or lines of highest level, between the val- leys. " Little rills have basins also, bounded by lower water-partings ; and so have ponds, lakes, rivers, and even the great oceans. The surface of the whole earth is made up of basins and beds sur- rounded by a network of water-partings. " Now let us begin at the rim of our valley and trace all the streams. First, there are the tiny rills that trickle among the grasses during a rain- storm, and form the thread-like rivulets. Then these little streams wind about to join our brook. "All the streams together form a 'system,' by which the valley or basin is drained. A system in a brook basin is called a ' brook system ' ; in a river basin, a ' river system.' Thus we may have also a ' lake system,' or an ' ocean system.' " Then there are other streams that belong in our brook system, but which we cannot see. They are the tiny rills that flow underground and feed the springs. We must not forget these little branches, for they are as useful as the surface rills. " Between a basin and its system there are lines 40 BROOKS AND BROOK BASINS. wMcli we call ' shores.' They are the lines al( which the slopes pass under the water, or the li which show how high the water rises in the be Shores are the boundary lines of beds. They also the lower edges of basins. A shore separa a bed from a basin. " If we wished to be very exact, we should j haps say that a basin is bounded at its upper e( by a water-parting, at its lower edge by a she and that the basin is made up of the slopes t' lie between, " Now I have a few questions to ask you, i then I will tell you of a great river valley tha saw a few years ago, far away towards the midc sun. " What is the difference between a basin an system ? " " A basin is land, and a system is water," s Chip. "I should say that a basin is made of slo] and a system of streams," was Bunny's answer. "Doesn't a system carry water away froir basin?" " It does, bright flower," replied Dick. " I hope that you will grow here again next sumn We should be very lonely without you. I si look for you as soon as the snow melts." The pretty wild-flower trembled, it was so hap Then it nodded its little head as if to say, "Ye will try to be here with you all." BROOK BASINS AND SYSTEMS. 41 Just then the brooklet asked another question : "Have the basins of all our rivulets the same shape?" " 0, no ! " chirped the robin. " I saw one, as I came along this morning, that spreads out like a maple-leaf. It is near the old pine, and is as long as it is wide." " Near the large spring there is a basin that lies among a group of knolls," said Bunny. "There is a long narrow valley leading from it towards the meadow. The upper part of the basin looks like a water-lily leaf, with the narrow valley for its slender stem. The tiny streams that flow in it look like a beautiful vase-shaped elm with wide- spreading top on a long trunk." " Between the two bluffs, on the east side of the pond, there is a very long basin that is shaped like a blade of grass," added Dick. "And there is another very queer one in the rough land near the spring. It is like a row of leaves on a single stem. There are four round valleys joined by narrow gullies. In each valley there is a small pond, but one slender stream runs through all." " You have sharp eyes, my friends," rippled the brook. " There are hundreds of basins shaped like each of these, and so we will call the valleys of our little rivulets 'tjrpes' of the great river basins that cover the earth's surface. Now for my story of the Amazon : 42 BBOOKS AND BROOK BASINS. "It is nearly midday, and if Redbreast should fly far south to the land just under the sun, he would see hundreds of white-capped mountains. They are many times higher than the one which he flew over in the storm. "All along the east side of this great highland there are countless streams flowing in as many basins. If we could see ten times as far, we could see ten times as many. "Down the steep slopes they run, sparkling in the clear sunlight. Here and there they flow together, just like our slender rivulets, only many times wider and deeper. "Now they enter a dense forest, and from all sides other streams come in, till they form a great river. Its basin is so wide that we cannot see across it. " On, on, for days and weeks, it winds along a low plain, through a forest so thick that the sun- light can scarcely creep in. Again and again great rivers flow in, till it looks like a vast sea. Its basin is so wide that if our robin should fly all day and all night he could not cross it. " At length the mighty stream pours its muddy water into the dark-blue ocean, and the raindrops that fell on the distant mountain sides have reached their home. All the rills and rivulets, brooks and rivers, that join to make this great stream belong to the Amazon system ; while every '